


Sick

by Khylara



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Relationships: Canton Everett Delaware III/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	Sick

Title: Sick  
Fandom: Doctor Who (well...technically)  
Couple: Canton/John (OMC)  
Rating: PG13 for M/M affection  
Synopsis: John comes home to tend to his sick boyfriend.  
Author's Notes: This is part of my "M.D. Loves G-Man" universe - of which there is not a lot of right now besides little ficlet thingys. There will (probably) be more - although I'm not sure when - they apparently have a lot to say.  
Originally posted as part of [](https://pocky-slash.livejournal.com/profile)[**pocky_slash**](https://pocky-slash.livejournal.com/) 's "rainy day, cookies and tea cuddlefest"  
 ****

When John came home from work the first sound he heard when he opened the door was a soft snore. _Better than it was,_ he thought with a smile as he quietly closed it behind him. Canton had come down with a terrible head cold thanks to an all night stake out in the rain and the resulting stuffed up nose, sore throat and aching head had made him sound like a wheezing steam engine going uphill. It had also made him pretty miserable.  
  
Taking off his shoes, John put them under the coffee table out of the way before glancing over at his lover. Canton was sprawled out under the quilt from the guest room, his mouth open slightly and a book lying face down and open on his chest. One bare foot was sticking out and John resisted the urge to run his finger over his big toe. Canton was especially ticklish and prone to kicking if it was unexpected.  
  
_Definitely not as flushed,_ John noted as he carefully picked up the book and put it on the table, making sure to mark his place. This morning Canton’s cheeks and nose had been bright pink from the fever he had been running. Now, his face was back to it’s normal color, a sure sign that he was getting better.  
  
He picked up the cup of tea he had left Canton that morning, frowning when he saw that it was still almost full. “You were supposed to drink that, sweetheart,” he muttered as he took it to the kitchen and dumped it into the sink.  
  
“You know I hate tea.”  
  
He turned around to see Canton blinking from the sofa. “I know. But it was supposed to help your throat.” Going back over, he knelt down next to the sofa and brushed a kiss over his forehead. “Your fever is down. That’s a good sign. How are you feeling?”  
  
“Better than I was.” He sighed, turning into the touch as John’s fingers caressed his cheek. “Mmm…that’s nice.”  
  
John smiled. “I’m glad,” he said softly before looking over the items scattered on the coffee table. “Have you been sleeping all day? Or did you lose yourself in a book for most of it?”  
  
“Sleeping, mostly. Head still hurts too much to read for long.” His hand came out from under the quilt long enough to wave at the dark TV sitting in the corner. “And there’s only soap operas and talk shows on TV during the day.”  
  
“Not true. I think Sesame Street is on channel 4.” He laughed at the face Canton made. “Not a Big Bird fan?”  
  
“Not since we were subjected to three hours of whatever he is the last time we were over Mark and Bobby’s.” The other gay couple they were friendly with were raising a little girl who had just turned two. They had gone over to celebrate her birthday and the combination of the Alphabet song and pot lids being banged together had given them both migraines before the night was over.  
  
John winced. “I forgot about that.” He paused. “Did you take the aspirin I left you?”  
  
“And drank the juice.” Canton wrinkled his nose. “I just couldn’t stomach the tea.”  
  
John sighed. “Well…I guess two out of three isn’t bad.” He hadn’t really expected Canton to drink it, although he had hoped that he would. “Did you actually eat anything?”  
  
Another patented Canton wrinkled up nose answered him. “Not really hungry.” He made a vague back and forth notion with his hand. “Stomach’s still a little iffy.”  
  
“You still need to eat, sweetheart.” He thought for a moment about what was in the kitchen cupboards and frowned. Between his double shifts and Canton being sick, neither one of them had managed to get to the store. “Tell you what, why don’t I go down to Katzman’s and get you some of their chicken noodle soup and a sandwich? Your stomach’s probably iffy because you haven’t eaten anything all day. Something like that might help settle things a little.”  
  
A hopeful look suddenly crossed Canton’s face. “And cookies?” he asked, making himself sound as pitiful as he possibly could. “If you’re going to Katzman’s the bakery is right next door. You could get cookies.”  
  
John considered his lover’s request for all of six seconds; the wide-eyed look was practically impossible to resist, even though he had seen it at least a dozen times before. “What kind? Peanut butter?” The lit up expression that came next was all the answer he needed. “All right. If they have any left I’ll get some. Okay?”  
  
Still smiling, Canton snuggled back under the quilt, yawning. “Okay.” His eyes drifted shut. “Tired still. Even though I slept all day.”  
  
“You’re sick, sweetheart. That comes with the territory.” Reaching for his shoes, John put them back on. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”  
  
“Okay.” Canton yawned again. “Love you, M.D.”  
  
He planted another kiss against Canton’s forehead before getting to his feet. “Love you, too, G-Man.” A fond little smile crossed his face as Canton began to snore again. _The things you get me to do,_ he thought as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door; luckily both were only a quick two-block walk. And maybe once Canton had some dinner and a few cookies in him, he’d be up for a little cuddling.  
  
_Because a little cuddling on the sofa always makes him feel better when he’s sick,_ he mused as he headed down the stairs. _I know it always works with me._

  
  
  



End file.
